


Are You Going to Keep Recording Or...?

by E_Salvatore



Series: Tagged: TBTP Tumblr Fics [6]
Category: The Black Tapes Podcast
Genre: F/M, Tumblr Fic, pointless and plotless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 07:50:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5860432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/E_Salvatore/pseuds/E_Salvatore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are some conversations Strand would rather have off the record.<br/>(Because asking someone out is hard enough without the added pressure of being recorded.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are You Going to Keep Recording Or...?

“So you’ll get here on Tuesday?”

“Yes,” Strand confirms. “I’ll be flying out of Chicago sometime in the morning, so I should be in Seattle by late afternoon at the very latest.”

“Great!” Alex beams, knowing he’ll notice her happy tone even though he can’t see her smile. “I’ve already got a few things lined up for us… if you don’t mind, of course.” She’s quick to add.

Strand half-laughs in that odd little way of his that she’s grown accustomed to, a forceful exhale that carries a hint of amusement in it. “Don’t be ridiculous, Alex. It’ll be… nice to get back to normal.”

There’s a lull in conversation as they both wonder just when _this_ became normal. Well, it kind of counts as work for Alex so in that sense, spontaneous road-trips to check out supposedly haunted locations are nothing out of the ordinary. But for Strand – who’s still based in Chicago, who consented to _one_ interview and then found himself agreeing to another week and another and another until he became as much of a fixture on the show as Alex herself – flying to Seattle to go ghost-hunting with a podcast host for the next few weeks or so shouldn’t be normal. It shouldn’t feel like _getting back_ to normal. It shouldn’t feel like coming back to Chicago to tend to a few things has been an unwelcome disruption to his daily routine with Alex.

“I can’t believe it’s been two weeks,” Alex comments after a while. “It feels kind of weird, not having you here to remind me about apophenia every five minutes.”

That coaxes a real laugh out of him.

“So…” Alex drawls, buying herself some time as she runs through a mental checklist of things this phone call needs to cover. She’s already informed Strand that she intends to use this recording to bridge the two-week gap between his appearances on the show, and to set up this week’s episode. They’ve talked briefly about the next case she intends to cover, which fulfilled the dual purpose of getting Strand _and_ their listeners up to speed. That about does it for tonight. “I’ll see you in two days?”

“Two days,” Strand assures her.

There’s a brief pause once more, and this whole conversation is starting to feel a little off to Alex because conversation has always come naturally to her and Strand… even if they spend more time debating each other than actually conversing. But she chalks that up to exhaustion on Strand’s part – he’s been rushing to get a lot of things done so that he can leave Chicago as soon as possible, plus there’s the two-hour time difference which makes it… nearly midnight where he is.

Oh.

No wonder they’re starting to run out of things to say. They’ve been on the phone for an hour.

It’s probably time for her to say good night and leave Strand in peace, but he speaks up before she can begin to string together an apology for taking up so much of his time.

“Are you still recording?”

She forgets sometimes how uncomfortable it must make him, to have nearly all of their conversations recorded. “Oh, yeah. Sorry. I can stop, if you’d like.”

Strand’s reply comes instantly. “I’d prefer that, if you don’t mind.”

He stays on the line while she pulls the phone away from her ear to stop the recorder. “There, all done. Is there something you wanted to discuss off the record?” Alex asks gently, aiming for a casual tone that doesn’t put any pressure on him to share whatever it is that’s obviously weighing on his mind.

“No,” Strand says - a little too firmly, a little too quickly. “No, nothing to discuss,” She picks up on a muffled sigh; he must’ve pulled the phone away. With every passing second of silence, she grows less curious and more concerned.

Whatever it is, Strand must’ve decided to keep her out of the loop for now. “Would you like to have dinner this Tuesday evening?” He asks instead, using a cordial, pleasant tone to mask an undercurrent of something Alex thinks might be nervousness. Odd.

“Yeah, sure,” Alex agrees happily as she shrugs to herself. He’ll come to her with his problems when he’s ready. “It’ll be nice to catch up before we get back to work. Do you want me to just get us some takeout and meet you at your hotel? I wouldn’t want to drag you out after your flight, if you’re tired.”

“No, Alex, that’s not-” Strand cuts himself off. “I mean-” He tries again, a hint of impatience and frustration seeping into his voice. “That is to say-”

“Richard,” She can’t help the little laugh that bubbles past her throat. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he sounds flustered. “What _is_ going on with you? You sound like a nervous schoolboy.”

She can’t be sure, but her ears catch a snippet of something muttered under his breath, something along the lines of _apt comparison_ and _lovesick fool_.

Well, there goes her hearing, because that _can’t_ be right.

“Alex,” Strand eventually sighs, something that sounds suspiciously like defeat. “When I said dinner, I meant _dinner_.”

“Oh.”

“Like a date,” He clarifies unnecessarily.

“A… date.” She echoes uncertainly.

“I’m sorry. Forget it. This was a bad idea, not to mention ridiculously unprofessional of me. I just… it’s been a while, I suppose.” His words bleed together, nervous babbling given voice in one short breath.

Alex takes a moment to compose herself. “Since the last time you asked someone out?” She asks lightly, trying to ease the tension.

Strand laughs, but it’s an unfamiliar note that’s endearingly bashful and nervous. “No – well, yes, that too. But I was talking about you. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, and I suppose I just… like I said: please, forget it. I’m sorry. Can we pretend this-”

“So should I meet you in the hotel lobby or…?”

“Ex-” Strand clears his throat. “Excuse me?”

“For dinner, Richard.” Alex’s voice is warm, and he can picture her shaking her head at him with a fond smile. “Should I wait for you downstairs or do you want to meet at the restaurant? Speaking of which, did you have any place in mind?”

“Mel - Melissa, my-”

“I know who Mel is,” As fun as it is to hear him babble, Alex figures the poor guy deserves a break.

Strand is suddenly glad he’s always resolutely refused to communicate with Alex via video call. “Right. Of course.” It’s surprisingly difficult to concentrate and piece his thoughts together. “Well, she mentioned something about this Italian place near the hotel that you’re fond of?”

“How did she-” But that doesn’t really matter right now, Alex decides. Plus, she’s probably better off not knowing. “Sure, that sounds great.”

“I was thinking,” And she’s glad to hear him slowly sounding more like himself and less like a teenager asking someone out for the first time. “You could meet me at the hotel, and we could walk there?” It’s still more of a question than a suggestion though, still carefully seeking her approval as if one wrong word could send her running away. At least he’s making an effort to bury that insecurity under his usual calm, composed tone.

“That’s okay with me,” Alex tells him.

“Okay,” Strand says. “Good.” And then, in a voice that’s finally his own: “I’ll see you on Tuesday then.”

She smiles, mainly because she can’t help the way her lips curve upward at his attempt to regain control of himself and the conversation. 

“It’s a date,” Alex declares happily, and follows it up with a soft “good night, Richard” because now it’s past midnight and she really shouldn’t keep him on the phone.

“Good night, Alex,” Strand replies just as quietly, and hangs up without another word.

Alex laughs at her phone and buries her face in her hands, feeling the strain of her wide smile on her cheeks and not caring about it one bit because that was _adorable_ , Strand all nervous and shy and –

And now she kind of regrets not getting that on tape. Not for the podcast or anything, just because… of all the moments they’ve shared, this would have been a nice one to look back on someday.

No wonder he asked her to stop recording.

**Author's Note:**

> Another wee little Tumblr ficlet that ended up being more fic-length than the tiny five-hundred-word thing I'd had in mind. I might come back and add to this someday, so feel free to suggest more conversations Strand would rather not have Alex record.


End file.
